Things aren’t going so hot these days.
We were called to come in Friday for yet another meeting with Stella’s school. Seriously, this has got to be a record for a not-quite-3-year-old. I predicted more of the same: she’s randomly hollering, her eye contact is poor, she talks more at us than to us. I was right, but we got a whole lot more.
The director added that in addition to the above, she rapidly transitioned from activity to activity. The director translated this as “stressed” behavior. They also find that Stella shows a lack of facial expression. Are we seeing this at home? No?
Then the big bomb: they don’t feel they’re “adequately addressing Stella’s educational needs at this time in a full-time capacity.” In short: we are being forced to go to half days, at least for now. Unless we could afford a “shadow,” a grown-up who basically goes to school with Stella to keep her on the straight and narrow. Expensive and (hello?) obtrusive.
I’m angry. I’m pissed. And yes, I’m reacting emotionally right now. I’d rather be angry than heartbroken – that while Stella loves school, school doesn’t love her back.
Who would have thought sending a little girl to preschool would be so freaking hard?
I just can’t believe they won’t give us a bit more time. We have a neurologist appointment in 3 weeks. The school readily admits her behavior has improved. So why boot her out now? She’s not violent. She’s not aggressive.
Doesn’t matter, I guess. We don’t have a choice.
Leaving today was really hard, despite the fact I need some time and quiet to sort myself out. I have serious misgivings about sending her to school knowing they don’t really “want” her there. I wanted to cry.
If I had my way I’d just tell them to fuck off and keep her home. If I had my way, we’d have some help. If I had my way I’d find a better school willing to work with us. I know, however, that the best thing for her now is to socialize with her peers. That’s part of her issue.
At the end of the day, I do know this: Stella is our little girl and she’s magnificent. I don’t believe for a second that whatever “this” is, it’s terminal. I think that we very well might have a communication disorder, but that it can be rehabbed away, or at least mitigated to a point where Stella can live a normal happy life.
I’m just so damn tired. Where the hell is Mary Poppins when you need her?